My Xianxia Harem Life-Chapter 367 Suggestion
Elder Adam returned to his cultivation mountain in utter disbelief.
The wind howled across the ancient peaks, tugging at his robes, yet his heart was far from calm.
Riley’s words still echoed in his mind—each one absurd, impossible, and yet... undeniable.
He had watched his third disciple grow from a strong king with weak spiritual roots into a cultivator whose presence now felt deeper and more unfathomable than the heavens themselves.
When Riley had unveiled that treasure—a radiant, pulsing artifact that seemed to breathe with divine energy—Adam’s world had turned upside down.
That was no ordinary spiritual tool, nor a relic forged by mortal hands.
It was an immortal treasure, a thing spoken of only in legends, said to contain the essence of the Dao itself.
And Riley had not only obtained it, but had used it to ascend beyond mortality.
For a brief, shameful moment, greed coiled like a serpent in Elder Adam’s chest.
His fingers had even twitched, as if to reach for the treasure that gleamed so temptingly before him.
To hold such power in his grasp... to walk the heavens as an immortal himself...
But that impulse died as quickly as it was born.
The moment Riley’s gaze turned toward him, calm and boundless like an ancient god, Adam’s heart trembled.
He could no longer see his disciple as the boy he once guided to this immortal realm.
Riley now stood as a being far beyond his reach.
"I’m getting old," Elder Adam murmured bitterly, his voice barely carried by the wind.
His reflection in the nearby spirit pond seemed to confirm it—lines of age etched deeper than he remembered, his aura dimmed by the passage of years.
He made his way to his cultivation chamber in silence.
The heavy stone door sealed behind him with a dull boom, cutting him off from the world outside.
Sitting cross-legged before his ancient jade platform, he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The memory of Riley’s serene figure burned in his mind.
A disciple surpassing the master... perhaps that is the natural order of things. But I cannot accept being left so far behind.
He clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms bulging as his spiritual energy began to stir violently.
The air around him rippled; loose papers and robes lifted as the room trembled with the force of his rising determination.
"If a mortal boy can touch immortality," he whispered through gritted teeth, "then so can I!"
Golden light flared from his body, casting the chamber in brilliance.
The mountain itself seemed to hum in response, as if acknowledging his resolve.
For the first time in decades, Elder Adam felt the fire of true ambition blaze once more within his heart—an unyielding desire to chase the realm his disciple had already attained.
***
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
On the morning of their departure, the air was heavy with anticipation.
Mist coiled around the mountain peaks like living serpents, the rising sun casting long shadows across the gathered crowd.
Hundreds stood assembled before Riley—disciples, soldiers, craftsmen, and scholars alike—each bearing the insignia of the Rice Clan upon their robes.
"The path ahead is full of peril," Riley’s voice echoed, deep and steady, reverberating through the valley.
"To those who wish to turn back now, I grant you this chance. Return to the mortal world while you still can. No one will shame you for it. The road beyond is drenched in danger and blood."
Once, he had led only three hundred.
Now, the number had swelled to more than fifteen hundred souls—each one drawn to him not by greed, but by faith.
These were men and women who had once lived simple lives in the mortal realm: farmers, merchants, warriors and scholars.
Riley had opened the gates of his immortal domain to them, giving them the rarest of gifts—the right to step into a world most mortals would never see.
They could pass freely between realms, guided by a portal that shimmered with divine light.
The same portal that he asked from elder Adam long ago.
Those who had proven their loyalty were richly rewarded.
Even if most lacked spiritual veins, Riley ensured that no one under his banner was left powerless.
He shared with them ancient body-cultivation methods that could make mortal flesh as hard as diamond.
He opened schools of pill refinement, forging, formations, and rune-craft—arts that did not require spiritual roots but could still command awe-inspiring might when mastered.
To him, strength was not limited to bloodline or talent; it was born from will.
A deep silence fell over the gathering.
The wind whispered through the pines, carrying the faint hum of spiritual energy.
Not a single person moved.
Riley swept his gaze across them. Men and women stood straight-backed, eyes blazing with resolve.
Their loyalty to the Rice Clan was strong, but their devotion to him—their emperor, their immortal master—was absolute.
He felt a faint smile touch his lips.
These were his people, his creation, his family in this vast world of immortals.
"Very well," Riley said at last, his tone calm yet powerful enough to shake the air itself.
"We leave in one hour. Prepare yourselves."
He paused, and his expression hardened as his aura surged outward, filling the valley with crushing pressure.
"Know this—death will only visit our enemies today. We march not to survive, but to conquer. Let every immortal in this realm remember the name Rice Clan! Let them tremble before our unity and might!"
"Rice Clan!" a thousand voices roared in unison, shaking the mountains to their roots.
Spiritual light flared as battle armor gleamed and banners fluttered in the wind.
As the echoes faded, Riley turned toward the distant horizon.
His gaze was cold and resolute, the eyes of a man who had once been mortal but now stood as a sovereign among immortals.
"Today," he murmured to himself, "the heavens will witness what mortals are truly capable of."
***
The Rice Clan’s base in the immortal realm was alive with movement.
Spiritual mist drifted lazily over the mountainside, carrying the scent of rare herbs and divine metals being forged in distant halls.
Disciples rushed to and fro, their robes fluttering like streaks of light as they prepared for the great departure.
From the alchemy pavilion to the formation square, everyone worked with solemn purpose.
Even so, the arrival of outsiders drew many eyes that day.
Not a few visitors from nearby sects had come—some out of curiosity, others out of morbid fascination.
They were excited to see the death of Riley and his people.
But some of the guests were not so bad at heart.
Among the guests was a handsome young man clad in blue robes embroidered with the crest of the Azure Spirit Sect.
His aura was refined, his bearing elegant, and yet beneath his composure hid a certain unease.
He had come for one reason only—to see her.
The woman stood near the spirit courtyard, overseeing the sealing of jade containers and talisman bundles.
She wore the light armor of the Rice Clan, her long hair bound by a silver ribbon.
Her presence was calm yet commanding; her beauty, effortless and serene.
When she noticed him approaching, her expression softened but did not waver.
"Come with me," the man said softly, stepping closer. "You don’t have to go through this madness. The Rice Clan’s march will bring only death and suffering. Stay here—I can protect you. I promise."
His tone was earnest, almost desperate.
For a long time, he had admired her strength and grace, but now that she was about to leave for war, fear gnawed at him. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦
The woman smiled faintly.
"Protect me?" she repeated, her voice carrying a trace of amusement.
Then her expression turned gentle but resolute.
"My allegiance belongs to my clan and to my lord. Master Riley has never failed us. I don’t imagine he ever will."
He opened his mouth as if to speak again but no words came.
Her conviction struck him harder than any sword.
"I see," he finally said, his shoulders sagging as he forced a bitter smile. "Then this is farewell."
He turned around and walked away, the hem of his robe brushing the dust as he disappeared into the mist.
For a while, she stood there watching his fading silhouette.
A flicker of sadness passed through her eyes—it was never easy to sever a bond, no matter how faint.
But as moments passed, the melancholy in her heart melted away like morning frost under sunlight.
He’s not the man I thought he was, she realized. When fear comes, he retreats. When danger looms, he hides.
Her lips curved upward, the sadness giving way to quiet pride.
She turned toward the distant peak where Riley cultivated, where an aura so vast it felt like the heavens themselves emanated faintly even from miles away.
Just sensing that presence filled her heart with warmth and strength.
"The man worthy of my life," she whispered, "must be someone like Master Riley—strong, unyielding, and fearless before gods or fate."
The wind carried her words away, mingling with the chants of disciples and the hum of spirit formations activating across the mountain.
She lingered a moment longer, then straightened her back and walked toward her quarters.
Inside, she began preparing her armor and supplies—checking every rune, every talisman, every weapon.
The faint light of dawn filtered through her window, catching in her determined eyes.
Tomorrow, they would depart. Tomorrow, they would step into peril, into battle, into the unknown.
But her heart no longer trembled.
For she followed a man who defied the heavens, a mortal who stood among immortals and dared to lead them all.
And to her, that was worth more than life itself. She found her purpose and she was willing to die for it.
